I wonder when I'll become a faithful blogger

It has been so long since the last post, I almost feel tempted to quit and someday start over. Who wants to read a blog that's so inconsistent, so unreliable? And who wants to write it?

My temptation to quit makes me think of how it is when a friend calls and I don't call him/her back immediately, and then it gets to be one week and then two weeks, and pretty soon it's been a month or longer and I am afraid to call at this point, feeling like it has been too long, the waiting period has been too ridiculous, I no longer deserve to call. A good friend who moved to California this fall called me some weeks ago and I've not called her back. I mourn her absence, I miss her dearly, and yet I can't pick up the fricking phone. It is pathological.

So I resist the temptation to give up blogging already. I trust that nobody is reading this yet anyway...

The past month has been...interesting, hard to characterize, a bit up-and-down, a bit nonstop. Again, it makes me feel like a very unsteady, unreliable person. Who knows what mood I'll be in from day to day? Who knows if I'll feel like talking to my husband (let alone anything more intimate)? Who knows if I'll pray and be obedient or fall into bad habits and be consumed by whatever it is in my life that offers to consume me? Since returning home from Christmas break, it has been work that has taken over my life -- this is nothing new. It's my default addiction. Along with it are the ever-present Need for Approval, the Desire for Attention, the Fear of Failure, the Feelings of Incompetence. I'm like the bad case study at the beginning of a self-help book. The good news is I seem to have "gotten over" the miscarriage and am not nearly as devastated as I was 6 weeks ago. The bad news is I probably just replaced one fixation for another and I'm not sure if burying myself in work or whatever else is the same thing as completing the grieving process.

I have this constant, nagging idea that God is disappointed with me, that he's tired of me, irritated, done with me. Like he can't believe how ridiculously ungrateful I am, how repetitive my sins, how slow to learn, how quick to turn away. Does he grieve for me? Is he angry? Does he feel anything about me? I hope he feels something more than frustration. I hope his Word is true, that he does forgive and transform me. I join the man in Mark who says "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief."

I should call my friend.